


The World Is Not Enough

by verovex



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dadwald, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, If This Was How S4 Ended I’d Be Satisfied, M/M, Martin the Ring Bearer, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 09:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12838620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verovex/pseuds/verovex
Summary: Nothing about this had gone according to plan, at least not once Gotham Gazette had gotten a whiff of it: ‘Save the Date, It Might Be Our Last!’





	The World Is Not Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This idea physically jabbed me in the chest today, after overloading my brain with fan art. I swear if anything happens to Martin in the show, ughhh. Will they let me across the border with a pitchfork?

Nothing about this had gone according to plan, at least not once Gotham Gazette had gotten a whiff of it.

‘ _Save the Date, It Might Be Our Last!’_  

“Oswald Cobblepot and Edward Nygma, our fine city’s previous Mayor and Chief of Staff, as well as notorious kingpin and Narrows show runner, and ex-sworn enemies are set to share nuptials this Saturday. Has Hell frozen over—“

”Ed, can’t you wait until after we’ve had breakfast before making me to lose my appetite?”

They were the front-page fluff piece, the newspaper had flown off the shelves in record time, and fuelled the newspaper with enough profit margins to last another year, if not longer.

The ringing of Oswald’s cell phone echoed loudly around the mansion, as it had been doing non-stop since six o’clock, as Oswald blatantly ignored it, the house phone began to ring in its stead.

”We can’t continue to ignore everyone.” Edward folded the newspaper in half, tossing it to the opposite side of the table. He’d been more amused by this than Oswald, clearly.

The whole piece had been humorous, even featured a picture they’d all but forgotten of, the day that followed Oswald winning the election. Ed leaning towards him, perched upon the seats of the vehicle driving them through the parade. 

“I know that,” Oswald seethed, trying to refrain from raising his voice, but this wasn’t meant to get out. They had wanted to keep it tight-lipped, the only people who were meant to know were the three occupants in that room, Victor Zsasz and Ivy Pepper as witnesses, the Judge that Ed reasoned Oswald should _not_ kill after signing their license, and the officiant coming in from Metropolis. “If you had let me kill everyone who’d seen us at City Hall, we might not be in this predicament.”

”My apologies. I was thinking you might not want to miss our wedding for another stint in Arkham.” Ed teased, which earned a comical glare, Oswald didn’t do a very good job at feigning anger with him. “Are we going to have to move things to a different venue?”

”Maybe we should just call it off, we already have the license, we don’t need the ceremony—“ Oswald interrupted himself from the brief look of distress that washed over Ed, quickly disappearing as any shift to his emotions usually did.

”If that’s what you prefer.” Ed stated with a shrug, pushing his chair back with more force than intended, causing it to scratch against the hardwood floor. Ed’s out of the room in a flash, after picking up his plate and half-drunk tea saucer, leaving them in the sink instead of cleaning them as he usually did.

Oswald shoved his own breakfast plate towards the centre of the dining table, already spent and the day hadn’t even truly started yet. His forehead came down on his crossed arms, releasing an exasperated sigh.

There’s a light tug at the arm of his robe, forcing Oswald to turn his head against his arms, meeting Martin’s worried gaze. The boy hastily scribbled at his pad, before holding it up above his head so that Oswald could read it without even needing to move.

’ _Was that a fight?_ ’ 

“No, Martin.” Oswald chuckled, sitting back, and placing a hand to the top of Martin’s hair, ruffling it. “A sorry attempt for a compromise, but not a fight.”

Martin’s lips formed a line, not understanding as his hand flew to write on the pad again. Oswald reached forward to halt his writing, taking the pencil and pad away as he moved them onto the top of the table, against Martin’s protests, whose hands immediately chased after it.

‘ _We’ve talked about this,_ ’ Oswald signed, fingers nimbly working through the air between them as Martin huffed. ‘ _You can get through more effectively this way.’_

’ _Are you still going to get married_?’ Martin finally signed back, crossing his arms afterwards to announce his disdain for their newest form of communication.

’ _Of course_ ,’ Oswald reassured. ‘ _And you’ll look quite the,_ ’ Oswald paused, trying to recall the correct way to properly motion, ‘ _you’ll look quite the dapper fellow as our ring bearer._ ’

It had been Ed’s idea to adopt sign language around Martin, a handful of weeks prior. The boy was intelligent in ways neither knew, and it allowed them an opportunity to properly converse. Even Zsasz had picked up on a few terms, and Ivy had been all over it within days, Ed mentioning those two seemed to talk more than Martin did with either of them.

’ _I’m going to check on him._ ’ Martin gestured, leaving his safety net of items on the table as he puttered away.

Oswald internally scolded himself for allowing a child to do that before he could. Surely Ed knew he wouldn’t cancel their wedding, if he didn’t want them to. It had just been a thought.

They’d already discussed how much Oswald didn’t want to make a show of it. Oswald’s chief concern being what people would do with the knowledge of their ‘ _weaknesses_ ’ for one another.

 _“Let them come.”_ Ed had stated, as if there was no other possible conclusion.

All the planning had been under pseudonyms, Ed and Ivy went to shops in disguises to pick out flowers, food, and cakes. The only thing Oswald and Ed had done together was go with Martin to have his suit custom made to fit his small frame, his outfit looking nearly identical to Oswald’s.

They’d chosen a ballroom in the heart of downtown, to have the small affair in the early afternoon, and then they were set to host a reception in the evening with a large list of guests, under false pretences of it being a masquerade charity event for Sofia’s orphanage. Any money gained would go back to her, of course. Oswald did still harbour some sentiment towards her, as she was one of the very few in Gotham that knew Martin’s official adoption records read _two_ names as parents. 

Oswald bit back whatever stubbornness had prevented him from not following Ed before, leaving his dishware on the table as he scoured the first floor of the manor. He found the two in the sitting room, Ed propped up against the fauteuil chair, an arm around Martin’s shoulders who always seemed to fit quite comfortably against him. Ed read through another chapter of ‘ _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz’_ , neither noticing as Oswald leaned against the entranceway’s frame.

 _Yes,_ Oswald thought miserably, knowing his fate had been sealed long ago, only solidified by the image in front of him, _a compromise would’ve been extremely unlikely on the topic._

Eventually he broke from his post, the phone ringing again from across the home. Oswald threw his hands up in frustration, grumbling as he decided to at least answer _one_  person that morning.

* * *

It had ( _shockingly)_ been Barbara Kean’s idea to have the ceremony at the Van Dahl Mansion instead of the ballroom, although they were still slated to attend the reception after. She’d given Oswald quite the earful, considering all of their shared memories.

’ _Not that I’m surprised,’_ Barbara cooed through the receiver, ‘ _I just feel a little left out, is all.’_

“Barbara, you’ve conspired to kill me more times than I’m willing to count. Why would I invite you to ruin what’s supposed to be the happiest day of my life?”

’ _Bygones be bygones, and all that. I had a hand in bringing you together, at least let me witness the outcome of all my efforts.’_

“Fine!” Oswald agreed, before he’d have to endure more.

This same course of conversation occurred with a few others that Oswald didn’t necessarily expect, as most people who’d been around to see their partnership blossom were dead.

Jim Gordon made a point of stating he didn’t _want_  to be there, but they’d all been some deranged definition of friends at some point, and _wouldn’t mind_  an invite. Bruce Wayne—well, Alfred Pennyworth had called on his behalf to state their congratulations, were happy a cure had been found for Ed’s ‘ _rare brain disease_ ’, and would come by for the ceremony. It hadn’t really even been a request to attend, Oswald noted.

There was Fries and Firefly, both not surprised considering how many times they’d seen Ed leave the Iceberg Lounge through the back entrance over the last year, but thought they at least deserved to be there.

Selina Kyle showed up on the Wednesday through an air duct above Oswald’s desk at the Lounge, nearly giving him a heart attack as she landed on the desk with barely even a sound. Before she could even start her tirade, Oswald had told her to show up on Saturday for noon at the Mansion.

At least it wasn’t _just_  Oswald suffering through this, Ed had said Lee Thompkins scolded him like a child, with an incoherent Grundy in the background of the call. 

Saturday came, and they indeed had a packed living room. As many couches as they could conjure up around the home were lined on either side of the room, as the most off-kiltered group took to chatting, waiting for the chance to attest that Ed and Oswald were indeed bound for life.

Unseen from the hallway, Oswald bent down onto his knees slowly, wincing at the flash of agony that flew up his leg and through his spine, but needing to adjust Martin’s tailcoat to situate properly on his shoulders. _Had he lost weight since the last fitting?_

 _’You know what you have to do?’_  Oswald signed, then proceeded to fasten a silver bow tie around Martin’s neck, waiting for him to reply. Martin searched the coat’s pocket for the box Ed had given him, holding it up proudly. ‘ _Just walk towards Miss Pepper and she’ll tell you where to stand, okay?’_

Martin nodded, a bright smile on his face. He held a finger in the air as Oswald started to rise from his feet. Martin let the velvet box slide back into his pocket, looking around briefly to make sure no one else was there. ‘ _Do you think you should still call it off?’_

Oswald had to remind himself this child was going on ten, but honestly seemed years ahead in maturity. ‘ _Not even a little bit.’_

 _’Good,_ ’ Martin paused, tapping the toes of his small oxfords together coyly. _‘Ed told me he loves you to the moon and back, and nothing could have stopped him from marrying you.’_

 _’He can be very headstrong when he wants to be.’_ Oswald felt light, music beginning to pick up from the room next to them, ‘ _I love him just as much._ We _love you that much too, Martin.’_

Martin nodded as if to say ‘ _I know_ ,’ a violin picking up signalling the boy’s short trek towards Ivy and Ed. Martin gave a light squeeze to Oswald’s wrist before taking his cue.

Oswald fully rose to his feet, straightening out the wrinkles of the suit, picking away lint from the satin lapel.

He repeatedly told himself he wasn’t nervous. He’d never felt so assured about anything else before. Despite their choice of guests, no one in that room could take away his adoration and love for the life he was resigning to. It marked an end to any previous chapter that pitted them for anything less than what they were now, impeccably well-designed for the other.

Music reached Oswald’s waiting ears.

His feet began to move on autopilot towards where he’d watched Martin disappear, telling himself for the twentieth time that day to remember to _breathe_  as he started what seemed like the longest walk of his life.


End file.
